


lessons in self-castigation

by kameo_chan



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Background mentions of HyuRiko and AoMomo but they're literally just mentions, But in this house we love and respect him all the same, Fluff, Follows the manga's continuity bc I'm gay and have authority, Graphic Depictions of Feelings, Hardcore awkwardness, Kagami is literally so obvious as to be transparent, Kuroko knows all Kuroko sees all, Love Confessions, M/M, Slightly sweary language (it would have been G-rated but I felt bad), dumb teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 02:18:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14462868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kameo_chan/pseuds/kameo_chan
Summary: “What about a love letter, then?” he asks, tapping a finger against his chin consideringly.Kagami boggles at him for a moment, before turning a truly spectacular, and extremely violent, shade of anger-induced red.In which Kagami suffers from Feelings™, and goes about confessing them in the most needlessly complicated way possible. Somehow, things still work out in the end though.





	lessons in self-castigation

It’s a cool summer’s day somewhere midway through their third year when Kagami finally _gets it_. 

Halfway through English, with their teacher droning on about adjectives this and adverbs that, Kagami’s mind goes off like a munitions factory in a bad action movie, and he totally _gets it_. 

“Kagami-kun,” Kuroko whispers from the seat behind him, poking him in the back with the tip of a pencil. “Do you need to go to the bathroom? Your sudden rigid posture suggests severe constipation. I hope you’ve been eating your greens, like we discussed. ” 

“Shut up,” Kagami whispers back, still caught up in his epiphany. “I was thinking.” 

There’s a short, poignant pause, and then Kuroko says, “Congratulations, Kagami-kun.” 

Kagami feels like grinding his teeth down to the gums. Instead, he bites out, “I’ve finally figured out something that’s been bugging me for a while now.” Kuroko mindfully refrains from making any more fun of him, settling into that odd silence that lets Kagami know he’s willing to listen if Kagami wants to talk. 

He does, and he doesn’t. 

“It’s complicated,” he mutters, and boy if that isn’t the understatement of the year. 

“If Kagami-kun says so,” Kuroko concedes, leaving it at that. Kagami grunts out a non-committal response and pretends he doesn’t feel grateful for Kuroko’s tact. 

They spend the rest of the period in an amicable, understanding sort of silence in which Kagami tries to concentrate on English and fails spectacularly (there will be remedial lessons forthcoming, he thinks miserably) and Kuroko pretends that he can’t see the proverbial smoke rising from Kagami’s ears.

Recess can’t come fast enough after that, and Kagami excuses himself from buying lunch with Kuroko (who suddenly looks much more concerned, now that whatever Kagami’s been thinking about has affected his appetite, as well) at the school cafeteria in favour of making an urgent phone call.

“Kagami-kun, is everything alright?” Kuroko asks, raising an eyebrow pointedly. 

“Sure, everything’s fine,” Kagami manages through an over-bright grin, before sprinting off to the nearest secluded corner that won’t get him detention or a confiscated phone. 

He tries not to feel too bad about it, since, he figures, it really only counts as a half-lie. 

(For the most part, that’s true enough.)

\--

Tatsuya picks up on the third ring.

“ _I think I’m in love with someone_ ,” Kagami blurts out. There’s about five seconds of silence in which Kagami checks the call-screen to make sure he hasn’t accidentally miss-dialed Tatsuya’s number or been prematurely disconnected, before he gets a reply.

“ _Hello to you too, Taiga_ ,” Tatsuya replies mildly, and only then does Kagami realise he’d been speaking English. 

“Sorry,” Kagami mumbles, switching back to Japanese at the same time that Tatsuya hums out, “It’s Kuroko-kun, isn’t it?” 

Kagami’s half-choking on his own spit before Tatsuya’s even done speaking. “I never said that!” he sputters indignantly. The silence on Tatsuya’s end is smug and laden and might as well have been spoken for how articulate it is.

“Okay, so maybe it’s Kuroko,” Kagami concedes haltingly. The silence on the other end stretches out even more, taking up residence and making itself comfortable.

“Fine!” Kagami growls. “It’s totally Kuroko! There, are you happy now?”

“Fairly, yes,” Tatsuya says, and Kagami can practically see his smirk. He rubs a hand over his eyes. 

“I don’t know why I even bothered calling you.” 

“Family always gets to hear the juicy bits first,” Tatsuya supplies airily, and then, “Congratulations, I guess?”

“I’m not – ” Kagami starts, then thinks better of it, lowers his tone and continues, “I’m not gay, if that's what you're thinking. I mean at least I don’t think I am. Maybe.” Kagami runs a hand through his hair and tries, really tries to put everything that's currently running through his mind into coherent words. “I think... I think it’s just, _him_ , you know?” he finishes lamely. 

“I see,” Tatsuya says diplomatically. 

“See Mucchin, I told you Kagamin liked Kurochin. I called it. You owe me twenty packs of Pocky.” The sudden sound of Murasakibara’s voice is faint but unmistakeable – he’s probably hovering around the vicinity of Tatsuya’s shoulders, Kagami thinks. 

“Oh dear.” Tatsuya again. He doesn’t even sound the slightest bit sorry, the bastard.

“You had me on speaker phone this whole time, didn’t you?” Kagami grinds out. The vein throbbing in his temple might have given people cause for alarm, had anyone been around to witness it.

“To be fair, I had no idea you were going to spring such momentous news on me,” Tatsuya defends, ineffectually.

“It’s not momentous at all,” Murasakibara drawls before Tatsuya theatrically hushes him. It’s still utterly insincere, however, and Kagami can’t make out whether the sudden faint crackle in the line is due to static or some poor snack being devoured. 

“Just so you know, I hate you. Both of you,” says Kagami and hangs up before he can make an even bigger a fool of himself. 

\--

Alex texts him during Japanese History.

Kagami hazards a peek at his phone and has to draw on every last one of his inner reserves not to just crush it in a fit of white-hot rage.

 _I can't believe my little Tiger is finally grown up! Remember, you can never have too many condoms or too much lube. <3<3<3_

“Oi Kagami,” Furihata whispers nervously across from him. Kagami can’t really fault him for looking apprehensive. “What was that about ‘die in a ditch’ just now?”

“Nothing,” Kagami bites out, thumb jabbing vehemently at the delete button.

“Kagami, please put your phone away. I’m not sure Uesugi Kenshin would have appreciated you texting your girlfriend during a lecture about him,” their teacher admonishes with a pointed look. 

Sometimes, Kagami thinks, life just isn’t fair. Like when his body does that involuntary thing where his hand moves of its own volition and hurls his phone clear across the classroom without his brain having given it any kind of instruction to do so. It ends up near the front door with a cracked screen and several bits of casing missing. It had been fairly new too and imported from America.

The silence that follows is practically deafening. 

“May I be excused,” says Kagami through teeth clenched so tight his jaws might as well have been fused together, and then adds, as an afterthought, “Please.”

“Not quite what I’d meant, but that works too,” the teacher replies, looking the slightest bit paler than he had five seconds before. “Kagami, you’re excused.”

Kagami hefts his bag over his shoulder and tries not to look at anyone. Especially not Kuroko, whose eyes he can practically feel boring into the back of his head. 

“Uwah,” says Furihata, once the door slides closed. “What the hell was that all about?”

No one ventures a response, and Kuroko just stares at the door pensively. 

Their teacher, who's seriously debating the perks of just quitting his job and moving to the countryside for an early retirement, shrugs nervously and continues as if nothing had happened. 

“Now then, if you’ll turn to page seventy-one.”

\--

“How do you tell a girl that you like her? Like, _like_ like her?” Kagami asks, scratching at the bridge of his nose and trying like hell to avoid making direct eye contact. He’s never been good at certain kinds of social interactions, and the thought of approaching one of his teammates for a heart-to-heart after practice, or God forbid, one of the Miracles, had been particularly off-putting. 

(Kagami would never admit it, not even on pain of death, but he counts the fact that Murasakibara hadn't told any of the others yet a blessing, and wordlessly sends a thought of grudging thanks to Tatsuya for ensuring his continued silence.)

So he's opted for perhaps the least mortifying route – or, more accurately, the only one that doesn't involve advice from close friends and family – and called up Kiyoshi, who's taken the day off from his part-time job at the local retirement home specifically to listen to Kagami ask questions a middle-schooler should have been able to answer reliably. 

“I mean, without making a fool of yourself?” Case in point. 

“Kagami, you've got your eye on someone?” 

Kagami feels the slightest bit insulted that his senpai looks so surprised, but lets it slide on account of Kiyoshi being the only person that Kagami feels he can talk to without spontaneously combusting of embarrassment. 

It’s a balmy Friday afternoon, Maji Burger is relatively empty and other than a gaggle of junior high girls daintily munching on their fries and giggling intermittently at them, he and Kiyoshi are the only patrons. That doesn’t still stop Kagami from double checking the seats every now and then for one of Kuroko’s stealthy sneak-ups though, just in case. 

“You make it sound like I’ve never shown any interest in –” Kagami starts off indignantly and then closes his mouth with a snap when Kiyoshi snorts up cola. Rude.

“I’m sorry Kagami. It’s just that, well, to be fair, you’ve always seemed rather preoccupied with either basketball or eating,” Kiyoshi supplies amidst clearing his throat, waving off Kagami's worried scowl. “That, and hanging out with Kuroko.” 

Kagami tries not to fidget at that last bit and fails horribly. He settles for ignoring the rather pointed, speculating look Kiyoshi gives him and tucking into his third burger. 

“This isn’t about a girl, is it?” Kiyoshi murmurs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Kagami doesn’t need to answer; the blotchy flush of red blooming high in his cheeks is answer enough. Why had he ever thought that talking to a senpai would _help_ matters? More specifically, why had he ever thought that talking to _Kiyoshi_ , of all people, would be a good idea? 

“If I say no, can we pretend once this is over that I never spoke to you?” Kagami wants to sink into the faded pleather of the diner seat. If he’s lucky, only his hair will remain. Maybe someone will mistake it for some really worn faux-fur trim or something.

“Well, if you like someone, it’s best to let them know directly,” Kiyoshi answers sagely instead, eyes cast thoughtfully on the lid of his soda cup. As far as Kagami can see, there are no universal mysteries or unknown truths engraved on it – merely the standard warnings not to litter and to recycle. 

“Yeah, except I can't just go up to hi- this _person_ and blurt out that I like them,” Kagami says, pushing a stray fry around on his plate. “They'll think I'm joking or being a jerk or they'll ask me if I've hit my head again and suggest I go to the nurse's office to be checked for irreparable brain damage or something.” 

Kiyoshi stares at him. “So it's Kurok-” 

“It's totally Kuroko,” Kagami says with a defeated sigh. 

For a moment, Kiyoshi looks so inordinately pleased that Kagami feels like hurling his food tray at him, before he schools his expression and seems to give the matter some serious thought. 

“What about a love letter, then?” he asks, tapping a finger against his chin consideringly. 

Kagami boggles at him for a moment, before turning a truly spectacular, and extremely violent, shade of anger-induced red. 

“Hear me out,” Kiyoshi says as Kagami opens his mouth to rant, waving a placating hand at him. “Kuroko likes reading, right? And it doesn't have to be a flowery kind of affair like in shoujou manga. Plus, it gives you the opportunity to put down how you really feel about him without putting either of you in an uncomfortable situation. You can just slip it in his locker or in his bag when he's not around or isn't looking.” 

Kagami feels his anger slowly ebb away again with every word. 

It makes sense. Kuroko does like reading, and Kagami would likely die if he were to tell Kuroko about his feelings in person. And he wouldn't have to face the possibility of immediate rejection directly, softening the blow somewhat. Also, it would be much easier to list all the reasons why he likes Kuroko – his composure, his small smiles, his steady presence at Kagami's side, even his goddamn dead-fish eyes. 

Kagami reflects on that for a moment before running his hands up and down his face. He is really, truly fucked if the thought of Kuroko's baleful stare sets butterflies loose in his stomach instead of turning it.

“Okay. So how do I go about writing him a love letter then?” Kagami asks, and Kiyoshi lights up like a string of party lights. 

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!” he says.

“I immediately regret this decision,” Kagami informs him. And then, pointing to Kiyoshi's half-eaten chicken sandwich, “Are you going to finish that?” 

\-- 

Inevitably, the Coach and their former captain get roped into the situation as well. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, Kagami thinks sourly, given that Kiyoshi hardly breathes and Riko and Hyuuga are at his side like a pair of faithful, hard-assed guard dogs; even now that the latter are both at uni and therefore, realistically, shouldn't be able to just magically appear when Kiyoshi calls them for an impromptu strategy-slash-moral-support brainstorming session.

“Ah, so it's like that, huh,” Riko says knowingly once Kiyoshi has caught her up with the details, while Hyuuga nods understandingly in the background. 

“What I don't get,” Kagami begins, trying for calm and missing it by a red mile, “is why you guys always feel the need to invade my apartment for everything!” 

They're all sitting around the living room, partly because Riko had designated Kagami's apartment an 'emergency think-tank' over the phone when Kiyoshi called her, and partly because Kagami has no sense of self-preservation and doesn't have the heart to flat out tell people to get the hell out of his home. 

“Your place is spacious, centrally located and always has snacks available,” Hyuuga tells him bluntly, pointedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You'll be experiencing university life soon enough. Don't ever underestimate the importance of comfortable seating or readily available food.” 

What the fuck, thinks Kagami. 

“Okay,” says Riko, voice suddenly all business, slamming her hands down on the coffee table. “Joke time's over.” 

They turn their attention to her as one, still all too used to that commanding tone of voice that haunts Kagami's more run-of-the-mill nightmares on occasion. Riko's got a familiar gleam in her eyes, and honestly, Kagami feels more trepidatious about this with every passing second.

 _Good use of the word trepidatious, Kagami-kun_ , Kuroko's voice ghost whispers magnanimously, and Kagami shakes his head angrily to try and focus on what Riko's saying instead. 

“So, we've established that a love letter is the best course of action for Kagami to confess his feelings to Kuroko. That being said, there are a lot of ways to screw up a love letter.” 

“That's very true, isn't Junpei?” Kiyoshi agrees with a sympathetic smile before proceeding to pat a suddenly flustered-looking Hyuuga on the shoulder. 

“Shut up, idiot,” Hyuuga snaps in response. 

Riko pointedly ignores them both when they start bickering in earnest and continues, looking Kagami dead in the eye as she does. “A great love letter takes time, patience and dedication. It's a work of art in which the writer lays bare their soul. So tell me, Kagami-kun. Are you ready to lay your soul bare?”

“What the fuck,” says Kagami. 

“Close enough,” says Riko, pulling out a jotter and a selection of colourful gel pens with googly-eyed characters for caps from her bag. “Let's begin.” 

\--

__~~Dear Kuroko~~  
~~To Kuroko Tetsuya~~  
~~Oi Kuroko~~  
~~To whom it may concern~~  
~~To the biggest pain in my ass~~

Kagami looks at the heap of crumpled paper littering his living room floor and heaves a sigh. His current attempt is stuck addressing its potential reader, never mind getting to the point where he actually manages to confess any feelings. 

In the far corner, Hyuuga and Kiyoshi have passed out on the couch, sprawled half-over each over and snoring faintly. Kiyoshi is drooling into Hyuuga's hair. 

“This is pointless,” Kagami says, scrubbing at his eyes.

Riko looks up from where she's been half-dozing on the other side of the coffee table with her chin propped on her elbow. She yawns, stretches with exaggerated effort and leans back on her hands, watching him intently.

“It's not pointless if it gets the message across,” she tells him, smiling faintly, before tipping her head in Hyuuga's direction. 

“Wha- You and the captain?” Kagami asks incredulously, head swiveling between the two of them. 

“I know, right?” she says sunnily. “He presented me with one during our graduation ceremony. He was so nervous about it, and the letter itself was so poorly written I could barely make head or tails of it, but...” 

The look she gives Hyuuga is wry and fond and something else Kagami can't put into words but knows intimately. Of course he does, since it's the same way he looks at Kuroko. 

“Sometimes, you just need a little push,” Riko says. “Just write what comes naturally to you.” 

Kagami thinks it over. Thinks about all the little things that make up the whole of his feelings for Kuroko. 

“I think,” he begins, chewing on his bottom lip. “I think I know what I need to write.” 

“'Course you do,” says Riko, and reaches over to punch his shoulder playfully. “Go get 'em, Taiga.” 

Kagami rolls his eyes at the pun (thank God Izuki isn't here), but grins at her nonetheless.

“Yes, ma'am.”

\--

Presentation and execution, Riko had cautioned him once she'd nodded decisively after proof-reading and sliding the letter into a discreet-looking envelope, was just as essential as the writing had been. 

“You can't just lob it into his locker and hope for the best. You have to make sure that he'll find it, and that he reads it when no one else is around in order to guarantee privacy,” she'd told him sternly, wagging her finger in his face like a scolding mother. 

Kagami had gulped and nodded and agreed wholeheartedly. 

(Hyuuga had clapped him on the shoulder, and with an uncanny gleam to his glasses that Kagami disliked immensely, told him not to mess things up. Kiyoshi had simply smiled, wished Kagami luck and dragged him off, still muttering about not repeating past mistakes.)

And yet here he is, a day later, standing in front of Kuroko's locker like a total creep, unable to scrape together the courage to just slot the damn envelope through one of the vents before someone shows up (like one of their teammates) and starts questioning his (admittedly) weird behaviour. 

“Just do it, Taiga. C'mon, it's not that hard,” he mutters to himself. Pep talks have never been his strong suit, at least not intentional ones, and the more Kagami tries to convince himself that he's Totally Got This, the less it feels like he's had any control over anything in his life, ever.

The envelope is starting to crinkle from the vice-grip he's got on it, damp patches making it warp slightly from where the nervous sweat of his hands meets with the paper. Kuroko's name, printed in severe-looking black ink, stands out against the plain white like a sore thumb, scrawled in blocky, uneven-looking kanji and how would he not know immediately that it's Kagami's handwriting, they've studied together enough times for his chicken-scratch to practically have its own trademark, dammit why hadn't he thought of that sooner – 

“Kagami-kun,” says Kuroko from behind him, and Kagami? 

Kagami leaps about three feet into the air and just fucking _screams_. 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me like that!” he yells, his face red, turning on Kuroko like Leviathan rising from the depths. Simultaneously and without thought, his hands swing behind his back, crumpling the letter in his balled-up fists. 

“Kagami-kun, I've been here for two minutes,” Kuroko tells him evenly, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “I said good morning, but you didn't respond, so I assumed you were just deep in thought. I'm sorry for startling you.” 

Kagami looks at Kuroko, and just sort of... deflates. After all, he thinks, it's hard being mad at the person you like, especially when the blame for getting pissed off at them lay at your own, size thirteen-and-a-half feet. 

“Kagami-kun, are you okay?” Kuroko asks, leaning in, and god-dammit why couldn't the earth just open up and swallow Kagami whole for once, huh? 

“'M'fine,” he mumbles, leaning away against the cool metal of Kuroko's locker, like that would stop the inevitable push-pull between them, like they share a gravitational orbit or something. There's heat rising in his cheeks, blotchy and uneven, as if his body can't decide whether to be angry, uncomfortable or embarrassed, or all three at once.

Kuroko's frown deepens almost imperceptibly, and from this close, his eyes are the most startlingly clear shade of blue Kagami's ever seen, and despite the flatness of that gaze, Kagami thinks that really, when you got down to it, Kuroko's eyes were actually kind of pretty – 

“Too close!” Kagami shouts, breaking eye contact and ducking sideways. “You're too damn close, Kuroko!” 

“Kagami-kun,” Kuroko begins, reaching out a hand towards him, but Kagami is officially Done. Fists clenching and unclenching convulsively, he ducks even further out of Kuroko's reach and nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to get away. 

“I-gotta-go-something's-come up-excuse-me,” he rattles off, before turning on his heel and bolting for the locker room's doors as if Nigou himself were nipping at his heels. 

\--

It isn't until he reaches their home-room class and slides open the back door with a heavy bang, sweaty and winded with an anxious stitch in his side, that he realises the letter is no longer in his hands. 

“Whoa, Kagami!” calls Furihata from where he's seated smack-dab in the middle of class, feet propped up on a nearby chair, drawing everyone's attention like a magnet. “You look like you've seen a ghost, man. Everything all right?” 

Kagami looks at his empty hands, up at Furihata, and back. And starts laughing so hard he nearly chokes. 

“Uhh,” Furihata supplies helpfully, eyeing him warily. 

If he stays here any longer, his laughter is going to turn to tears, Kagami thinks, and laughs even harder. All of his classmates are staring now, several of the girls already have their hands up to whisper behind conspiratorially and Kagami just cannot. Deal. 

“Kagami, you uh, you – maybe you should calm down or something,” Furihata says urgently. Distantly, Kagami notes that he's out of his seat and approaching him.

“Kagami-kun just needs some air,” a voice pipes up from behind him, cutting through the fog that is currently taking up space in his head, and shit, Kagami really can't catch a fucking break, can he? 

There's a hand on his elbow, gentle but firm, and before Kagami can really register everything that's happening, Kuroko is steering them away from class and towards the open field just behind the basketball gym. 

By the time they get there, Kagami's calmed down, for the most part; laughter reduced to the occasional nervous and involuntary giggle. His throat feels thick and his lungs shriveled and his diaphragm hurts from the exertion. 

“Dammit,” he mutters, folding in on himself like a broken lawn chair to plop down on the grass with his knees tucked to his chest and his arms forming a protective barrier around his face. 

Kuroko doesn't say anything, just sinks down next to him, a hand's breadth away. Even then, Kagami can feel coolness radiating from him against his own fevered, sweat-soaked skin. Kuroko runs cold, he remembers offhand, even in the middle of summer. 

“I'm sorry I made an idiot of myself back there,” Kagami mutters into the crook of his elbow. 

There's a beat, a moment's silence, and then Kuroko reaches out to punch him on the shoulder. “No more than you usually do, Kagami-kun,” he teases, but his voice is gentle and lacking its usual sardonic lilt. 

And Kagami, despite himself, can't help but smile. Trust Kuroko to make one of the worst days of his life thus far seem somehow bearable. He risks a peek at Kuroko over the barricade of his arms, and catches him smiling faintly. 

“Thanks, Kuroko,” he says, and means it. 

They sit in silence like that for a few minutes, simply gazing at each other as early morning clouds billow and scuttle by overhead, dappling them in shadow every now and then. 

“You dropped something in the locker room,” Kuroko says eventually and reaches into his trouser pocket to retrieve Kagami's crumpled letter. 

“It's – it's for you,” Kagami tells him hesitantly, unable to take his eyes from Kuroko. Now or never, he thinks, with a sudden, unaccountable sense of calm.

“I know,” Kuroko says with a smile that makes his eyes light up, and Kagami's heart flutters uselessly against the base of his throat. “I figured as much when I saw my name in that horrible scrawl Kagami-kun calls handwriting.” 

“Hey!” 

“I'm joking, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko soothes, holding the letter out to him. “But, while I'm sure I know what it means, I think it would be better if you gave it to me in person, Kagami-kun.” 

Now or never, his mind repeats, and Kagami gulps, reaches out and takes the envelope with a shaking hand. Slowly, so slowly it feels like he's a mountain being pushed up from the ocean floor, Kagami straightens and stands up, Kuroko following suit. 

“Kuroko,” Kagami begins, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth and needing to clear his throat twice before the nervous squeak leaves his voice. “Kuroko Tetsuya, please accept this,” he says, bowing his head and holding out the poor, rumpled envelope with both hands. 

“Kagami-kun, you really can be thick sometimes,” Kuroko tells him, but his hands close around the envelope nevertheless and when Kagami ventures a peek at him, his smile is wide and bright and heart-stopping. 

“I like you too, and I accept your feelings, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko tells him fondly, and it takes all of Kagami's considerable force of will for his brain not to short-circuit on the spot. 

“I – You. I mean, that's... That's good,” Kagami finishes stupidly, blinking down at Kuroko before burying his face in his hands, red to the tips of his ears. 

Kuroko's laughter is quiet and steady and warm as the breeze. 

\--

_In a certain locker at Seirin High School, there's a love letter that's roughly lined and crumpled, a single page already worn to dog-earing in just a few short days. In a blocky, nearly illegible scrawl, are printed a series of characters. The words are not new, nor particularly inspired, and they certainly weren't written by one with the soul of a poet, but for all their brevity and forthrightness, they carry meaning nonetheless._

'Kuroko,' _they read,_

'I like you. More than I've ever liked anything else before in my life. More than basketball, more than food and definitely more than any of the Miracles. For you, I'd even be willing to put up with Nigou on a permanent basis. And if you'll have me, I'd like to be by your side for as long as possible. 

Your light, Kagami.' 

\--

“Can't believe you actually found the balls to confess,” Aomine says, taking a large gulp from his water bottle, obnoxiously snide as usual. “And with a fucking love letter to boot. What a sap.”

Kagami is sticky with sweat; achy and bone-tired in the best of ways, but deeply content as he leans back against the chain link fence of the street court he's just spent the last hour on going toe to toe with the rest of the Miracles. 

“Still puts me a step above you, loser,” he hums, cracking open an eye to smirk at Aomine, before pointedly directing his gaze towards where Momoi is standing off to one side of the court, staring down at her notes with her pen pressed against the plush bow of her mouth. 

Aomine huffs an irritated sigh and throws his towel at Kagami's head. “Man, shut up.”

“I wouldn't exactly pat myself on the back like that, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko pipes up from beside him, and Kagami absolutely doesn't startle, not one bit. “If I recall correctly, _you_ required _my_ help in order to confess _to_ me.” 

“Shut up, Kuroko!” Kagami says, lifting his hand to bat at Kuroko's head, but it's plainly (and kind of pathetically, he thinks) obvious that there's no heat behind it whatsoever. Kuroko dodges easily, and instead sidles up even closer before plunking down to stretch out next to Kagami, their knees bumping. 

Aomine casts them a withering look and makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “God, you two aren't even together properly for a week and already you're so damn domestic I feel like throwing up,” he says, levering himself to his feet and ambling over to join Momoi, who is now deep in discussion with Akashi.

“When do you think he'll figure it out?” Kagami asks good-naturedly, shifting closer to Kuroko, arms pressed together, seeking out the cool touch of his skin.

“Aomine-kun's even more stubborn than Kagami-kun, so I would hedge my bets on that,” Kuroko replies thoughtfully, leaning into the contact, setting something warm and comfortable loose deep in Kagami's mid-section. 

From the other side of the court Kise's voice rises three octaves, a shrill cry of “Kurokocchi, I thought you said you didn't do PDA!” ringing out, followed by Aomine shouting at Kise to shut up and Momoi scolding 'Dai-chan' for being rude, Midorima pointedly sighing, and trailing it all, a drawled, “I totally called it,” drifting over from where Murasakibara has dug in (and seemingly put down roots) to the cooler box full of ice lollies that Momoi had brought with. 

Kagami ignores the ruckus in favour murmuring, “I dunno about that,” and lets his head loll to the side to rest on top of Kuroko's before closing his eyes again. “I don't think it's that far of a stretch.”

“Of course Kagami-kun wouldn't,” Kuroko replies, voice flat, and Kagami can't help the belly laugh it pulls from him. 

“I guess you're right,” he says, and presses closer still, relishing the damp tickle of Kuroko's hair under his cheek. 

“Of course I am,” Kuroko tells him matter-of-factly and reaches over to lace their fingers together. “You wouldn't have me any other way, Kagami-kun.”

No, thinks Kagami, grinning wild and wide, I definitely wouldn't.

**Author's Note:**

> *rolls in on light-up heelies* what the FUCK is up you guys?
> 
> Fun fact: this is the first fic I've posted in four years. It's been sitting, unfinished, for nearly that long, in my drafts folder. I'd like to thank Studio IG for the beautifully animated and superiorly **G A Y** KnB: Last Game movie for breathing life into my crooked little shipper heart again, and Tadatoshi Fujimaki in particular for creating the most openly homosexual deuteragonist in a Shounen Jump series, ever. 
> 
> Lastly, I love my giant red dumb gay son, and I hope you enjoyed reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
